


talk too much.

by danitoslitty



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Bittersweet, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Smut, they're not f1 drivers in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danitoslitty/pseuds/danitoslitty
Summary: life isn’t meant to be easy.Or, that one where Daniel has one too many Mercury's and believes he’s a poet. Max let’s him.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	talk too much.

**Author's Note:**

> friend said this made her feel melancholic. apologies for that. i'm honestly a romantic comedy writer i don't know where this shit came from.  
> 

“Life isn’t meant to be easy.”  
He had said it over a can of cheap cider, just as the sun was rising over the horizon and the cockatoos were starting their morning calls in their eucalypt houses. Wearing ugly fluro yellow shorts and not much else, eyes glassy and staring out over the suburbs like he was the reborn soul of an ancient poet, documenting tragedies past.  
“But I believe it can be.”  
Daniel was beautiful. The two of them sat on the roof atop the dying embers of a party, him squatting on the interlocking red tiles with his toes out, fingernails short and bitten. The air of a man just a little too young for his body seeping out of brown curls and a receding hairline. He sipped his Mercury, smiled at the taste, licked a stripe up the black can to catch the droplets of condensation.  
“How about you?”  
Max was content to listen, to watch, to learn. Daniel talked enough for the both of them anyway. Max had needed an exemption back then, months ago in the corners of the youth hostel he escaped too, someone to steal him away with tall tales and flowery words and passion. Just so he could shine minutely, a mere veneer of what Daniel was.  
“I think,” Daniel began philosophically, putting his cider down and letting it teeter precariously in favour of hopping over to Max. They sat, thighs pressed together and a sweaty arm slung over Max with a content sigh. “I think,” he repeated, “I think you’re in love with this.”  
Max believed Daniel meant the space they occupied together, between time. Flirting with the concept of never stopping, of settling, of being. Here, in this moment, forever: together. It made him think of when they had met, and Daniel had taken Max’s hand and guided him, leaping and careless and laughing, into something more. Even if they broke bones on impact, Max hadn’t cared at all.  
Max believed he could love anything Daniel deemed to touch with his golden hands, anything or anyone.  
It was warm yet oddly cold, the two of them spending the early dawn at a park next to a train station. Aged and faded, all rusting hinges and shaking tracks when the early commuters sailed past.  
With the calls of the birds and the dew clinging crystal to the blades of grass, Max felt at home. It was an odd feeling, that comfort. From the cooling breeze and the scent of spring flowers to the sight of Daniel on the swings, squeaking with ill oiled chains; and Max wanted to stay. Wanted to wade neck deep in it and live in this moment forever and ever.  
Daniel barked on the swings, letting his voice carry across the sky with a playful exuberance that sent Max giggling. His stomach was giddy, his brain sparking with acute excitement at being here in this moment with Daniel. Daniel who was so vivid, electrifying like lightning and burning bright and hot in a world that used to be so dim.  
Max watched Daniel’s toes curling into the mulch as if he was feeling each coarse piece, at one with the earth in all of its entirety. Max watched them like worms and his stomach dropped to the floor, his brain clouding over, heart bursting. Daniel’s chest was bare, his body beautiful to match the smile he bore always, and Max wanted him.  
With a demented screech from the childs playset, Daniel came to a halt. He bounded across the ground to the grass where Max sat, stared down into Max’s eyes: glossy and reflecting the light from the early dawn. Daniel held out his hands, “home?”  
They may not have had an actual home. But Daniel was as close to one as Max had ever wanted.  
They had paid for their room with the dollars in their pockets.  
Daniel was his everything. With the thought a beautiful feeling bloomed from inside of Max’s heart that felt right. Felt perfect. Daniel sat on the single bed, tousled and sweating and Max wanted to build the walls of his heart around that image and hold it close forever and ever and ever.  
“I’m a mess without you,” Daniel said, staring at the walls. And his words hit the ceiling and bounced around the room like a football.  
They drew nearer; two bright lights spinning closer and closer together. Daniel igniting, dangerous and glowing, luring Max like a moth drawn to a flame.  
Daniel spread kisses across Max’s chest, biting bruises into the dips of his stomach and lipping at the head of his cock. He tasted the precome like candy, peering up through hooded eyes and saying: “taste so good, Maxie.”  
Max probably would have purred, in another life. Instead he rested his calf over Daniel’s shoulder, feeding his dick into Daniel’s waiting mouth and let out a sigh through his nose. He pulled out when Daniel’s eyes watered and his nails dug into Max’s thighs, waited a beat before going again. The heat was addictive, the want painfully sharp.  
He played with the idea of reaching down and pushing Daniel, holding him in place to reach his end quickly, aggressively, like he usually did. But catharsis was sweet, and Max felt melancholic and slow with the alcohol inside of him, and he wanted to savour this.  
Daniel pulled away, wiping his mouth, leaning down and letting Max taste himself on his tongue. Max curled his hand over Daniel’s nape, holding him close and sitting up to rest against the headrest.  
Daniel liked to be wet, sloppy, as if he was a girl and everything was made to be easier. He fingered himself open with too much lube, biting his lower lip and kissing Max with each half moan he emitted. “Max.”  
He said it like a prayer, like a whisper. Like Max was everything and nothing all at once.  
The next time, his voice keened up higher, “Max. Are you okay with this, baby?”  
Max nodded, choking on his own groan when Daniel sank onto him, hot and compressed. Sweat dripped from Daniel’s temples and chest and their bodies together slapped wetly. It made Max see stars; the way Daniel strained above him, all wild groans and tensed tattooed thighs. His hands on Max’s chest as he rolled his hips desperately with a fervor Max could never get enough of.  
Max finished first, gasping out a strained moan and holding Daniel down until he was spent. Daniel said he loved his sounds. The ones he let out when no one else was watching. So Max let them all out.  
When Daniel finished, a few moments later with a fist around his cock, he pressed a kiss to Max’s forehead, to his nose and cheeks, then one, ringing sweetly of untold promises, onto the slight part of Max’s lips. His hands cupped Max’s face, rubbing circles into his skin: kept Max grounded as his chest fluttered and tried desperately to run away.  
“Beautiful,” Daniel murmured. “Christ, I love you.”  
Max didn’t believe life was meant to be easy. He wasn’t confident like Daniel or built out of stardust or born to be the centre of anything and everything. He was just him. But lying here in the hostel, languid and dull and drowning; Daniel signalling like a lighthouse. Max believed that it could be.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for making it this far! constructive criticism is always welcome :))  
> catch me over at danitoslitty on tumblr if you want to interact.  
> 


End file.
